


The Member of the Wedding

by Aja



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-29
Updated: 2004-10-29
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/pseuds/Aja
Summary: Crowley comes to a realization.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tropes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropes/gifts).



> This was originally posted [here](http://copinggoggles.livejournal.com/183178.html?thread=710794#t710794) in 2004 for (lj user) copinggoggles. Tropes made me write it. And since this is my first GO fic I have no idea whether it's any good or not, but, well, here it is. :)

Crowley frowned.  
  
“I just don’t see the point of having one,” he muttered.  
  
“You’re just faffed because your kind can’t go in,” said Aziraphale placidly.  
  
“Yes, and doesn’t that bother you just a bit?” Crowley responded. He was irritable, his head ached, and he sort of wanted to know why Anathema and Newt had sent both of their wedding invitations to the bookstore...  
  
“Next I suppose you’ll be saying that there’s as much work done for your side within the church as outside,” said Aziraphale calmly. “That’s a tiresome argument, you know.”  
  
And even on the same card.  How very...  
  
“Really, it’s not as if the church hasn’t got a tough enough time as it is without your lot coming in and mucking things up even worse.”  
  
And the same address, too: Misters A. Crowley and A. Phale.  Almost as if…  
  
“And considering what happened the time you decided to turn all stained glass in the world into wax it’s a good thing you’re allowed within fifty feet of any respectable—”  
  
“Angel.”  
  
“Yes, my dear?”  Aziraphale blinked at him in that way that meant Crowley’s distress was now his sole topic of conversation.  
  
Crowley looked pointedly down at the envelope addressed to them both.  There was _something_ there, something he couldn’t quite describe, something he knew but couldn’t quite put into words.  “What do you suppose they meant?”  
  
Aziraphale looked down at the envelope, then back up at Crowley.  “Oh, my dear,” he said.  “It’s quite simple, really.”  
  
Crowley looked at him, well and truly shocked by something indefinable in his friend’s voice, something he had never heard there, ever.*   It is a good thing that this surprise came first, otherwise the brush of Aziraphale’s lips against his an instant later would have done it right up.  As it was, however, Crowley was obliged to be mildly surprised, and while shocked demons are rather unattractive, mildly surprised demons are downright appealing.   
  
At least, as Crowley would later discover, that is what Aziraphale thought.   
  
  
  
  
* This is, incidentally, the same something indefinable heard by Jesus from Judas, Tristan from Isolde, and Starsky from Hutch moments before they each shared their respective first kisses; as of this writing there is no word on whether or not this particular kiss is fated to end in untimely betrayal, death, or cancellation.


End file.
